


burn bright (the night is young)

by tvkeshi (DarkStreet)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Doctors & Physicians, Gen, Italy, Magic, Sorcerer Supreme!Luce, Sorcerers, Surgeons, the arcobaleno are branch heads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 08:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkStreet/pseuds/tvkeshi
Summary: A blurred figure floated before him encompassed by an aura of orange.“Come.”He reached towards them desperately.“Come find me, Renato. Find me and be reborn.”Posting this to get a feel for the audience





	burn bright (the night is young)

_A blurred figure floated before him encompassed by an aura of orange._

_“Come.”_

_He reached towards them desperately._

_“Come find me, Renato. Find me and be reborn.”_

His hands. 

Caro dio. 

His HANDS. 

Oh dio. 

Oh dio. 

Oh dio. 

Renato Sinclair – first generation American, age 32 – had been considered a genius for and after the entirety of his educational ventures. 

He grew up in Africo on the toe of Italia and had fought tooth and nail for every luxury in which he indulged. 

He had never been one for manual labor, he despised being dirty, and he was a terrible fisherman. The children in his age group made a point of mocking the scholarly outsider. He would take two trains to get to a decent public school and – despite the quality of the institution – he had found a place where he thrived. The instructors and students alike had looked down on him for his shabby clothes, his poverty, and when they learned of his home, they mocked his city too. 

Once he was of age for secondary education, he tested into a private school on the island, something that resulted in his gaining a full ride and him moving forward with his back to Africo. 

On the island, no one knew of his background and the uniforms hid any sign of the poverty that had once defined him. 

The institution gave him the platform he required to dive into the world of academia that quickly lead him to medicine. He had done the impossible once, why not continue? 

But now. 

Oh dio. 

Now, he had lost the one thing that he was good for. 

“Who did this?” his voice was a mere whisper. 

“There was an accident, you barely made it. He did the best he could with what he had.” 

“Who did this to me?” 

“It was Shamal.” 

He scoffed, “Shamal could do better than this.” 

Shamal had been placed under his tutelage when he began his residency and even Renato had to admit the kid was natural. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to believe, how bad it could have been for even his work to end with that result. 

“I don’t think you understand the severity of the damage, Sinclair. The nerve damage alone was colossal. As you are you will eventually be able to perform basic tasks. If he hadn’t done it, you may as well have lost the entirety of the movement in your hands.” 

“Lal....” he trailed off. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” she snapped. “That only person who could have done better is you? _I_ know that, _you_ know that. Hell, _Shamal_ knows that.” 

She made her way over to the door before whirling around. “If I hear even a whisper that you blamed Shamal for this, I will make your life a living hell. The man is tearing himself apart over this.” 

He watched her go. 

They had something, once. It wasn’t serious and neither of them was actually looking for a partner. She thought he was an incorrigible womanizer – he was just a flirt thank you very much – and he thought she as a hard ass – which she definitely was and she ruled the ER with an iron fist something he attributed it to her military experience – she was forced to retire after the jeep she was traveling ran oved an IED resulting massive in the burn scars across the right side of her body. But regardless, they slept together a handful of times and acted as each other’s plus one when required. 

It was a terrible arrangement and they were both miserable. It made him physically ill after several months and Lal became terribly depressed. Shamal had actually been the first one to notice which lead to him suggesting – forcing – them to break it off. 

The ended on amicable terms and became quite close – even if Lal had somehow become his minder. 

He could feel tears burning in his eyes but he couldn’t cry. Not then and not ever. He made it as far as he could doing the impossible, he would find a way. He had too. 

**……….**

_He had been having these dreams for months and his psyche was yet to give him a glimpse of the figures face – all he knew was that they were possibly a woman from what he had heard._

_She was before him once again, a blur of white and orange._

_And she always said the same thing._

_“Find me, Renato. Find me and be reborn.”_

**……….**

He swept an arm out violently clearing the table at which he sat his breathing harsh. 

Yet another surgeon had refused him because it was risky and they could lose face. Granted, he hadn’t said it in so many words, but he knew the type. He had been the same way. 

The door slammed shut. 

“I think it’s about time you end this, Renato,” Renato not Sinclair, she was serious. She dropped a bag of take-out on the table before hooking a foot around a chair and plopping down. 

“There are literally thousands of other things you could be doing besides this.” She pulled out two Styrofoam containers and pushed one towards him. 

“And what would I do? Teach?” he spat. 

“If you wanted, I think you would be good at it,” she took a bite of her food undeterred. 

“Why are you here?” 

She gave a one armed shrug, “Someone needs to take care of you.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m not a _child_ , Lal,” he hissed. 

“Really, because you’re doing a piss poor job on your own. When was the last time you left your apartment? When was the last time you even showered?” 

“Chiudi la bocca!” he barked. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Sinclair! I’m not one of your interns and I am sure as hell not your subordinate! _You_ shut up and _you_ listen to me for once in your life!” 

He narrowed his eyes and his jaw clenched in anger but he kept quiet. 

“You, Renato Sinclair, made you way here from nothing. And right now you are _nothing_ and it’s not because of your hands. _You_ have allowed yourself to waste away in here chasing a dream that won’t come true. 

“You used to be Renato Sinclair the man with good looks and a shitty personality. Even if you didn’t have your career you at least had yourself and now you’ve even let that go to waste. 

“I’ll say it as many times as I have to, Renato. You are more than your work.” 

“Get out,” he whispered as he shook from rage or what could have easily been from shock. 

And she complied, “I’m not giving up on you, Sinclair.” 

The door closed quietly behind her and for the first time since the incident, Renato felt tears burn behind his eyes. 

**……….**

Shamal had been searching – to the extent of obsession – for a way to rectify something that he believed he had caused. Apparently, he had been out drinking with his physical therapist _associate_ and they had regaled him with a tall tale. So, Shamal had emailed Lal who _suggested_ Renato switch therapists. 

Some part of Renato recognized that he needed to address that at some point, but a majority of him was intrigued and hesitantly hopeful. 

He couldn’t determine if he was more infuriated or humiliated as his hand shook violently. 

He was the top neurosurgeon in New York and one of the top in the world. He could freehandedly extract a bullet from a patient’s cerebrum but he couldn’t fucking extend his fucking fingers. 

Choosing rage, he slammed his hand down on the table and growled in anger at the pain. The therapist just gave him an unimpressed stare, “It may not feel like it, be you have improved.” 

“Just improving isn’t good enough,” he glared at his hands before looking at the man across from him, “Have you ever seen someone recover from nerve damage _this_ severe?” he questioned not expectinig an answer. 

“Actually, yes. Man came in here about a year ago, spinal cord injury. He was paralyzed from the neck down.” 

“Where are you going with this?” 

There was a man who could walk. 

This in itself wasn’t unusual but the man had his spinal cord severed just below the neck in a freak accident. 

“Send me his file.” 

**……….**

Someday he’ll wonder if it was ever about helping people or if it was just him wanting to prove that he was better than the poor kid from Africo. 


End file.
